Lying Awake
by mooreofrachael
Summary: Severus is in hiding but somehow the Know-it-all found in amidst her failing marriage. The thought of her never visiting him again makes him contemplate coming out of hiding. Should he? EWE, Lemons, Ron bashing, SSxHG all the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. Longing**

-S-

"He's cheating on me, I know he is," Hermione seethed as she paced the length of his bedroom. Severus sat, unamused, on his bed with a book in his hand as he listened to the witch rant. Her hair was frazzled, on end much like she was, and the jumper she wore was obviously quite well loved. She continued to pick at the fabric as she paced, a nervous habit he'd noticed since she started coming around to see him.

"Then leave him," he offered casually, flipping the page of his novel and frowning just a bit more to concentrate. The fact was that he couldn't, he never could when the witch decided to grace his flat with her presence. She had this intoxicating perfume and wore jeans that hugged her in all the right places. She'd grown since the war, matured, and it was definitely befitting her.

"I can't just _leave_ him! He's my husband!" She retorted, grabbing a hold of the foot of the bed. He glanced over the top of his book to see her giving him a desperate look. Her golden brown eyes were glossy and their shallows made it obvious that she hadn't slept in days.

"You have no children, it's relatively new, and he's _cheating on you_ ," he emphasized with a roll of his eyes. She left out a frustrated grunt and threw her hands in the air before returning to the rut she was beginning to form on his floor. Placing his book down, he sat up a bit straighter against the headboard and sighed. "Listen, Hermione, you've been coming here every day for three weeks telling me he's up to something or he's said something to hurt you. I know you don't want to think about it, but the relationship is obviously not working, for either of you. Before anyone hurts any further, break it off," he insisted.

"You don't understand! The money that Molly and Arthur put into the wedding, the expectations..." her voice trailed off as she stopped moving, clutching her arms a bit harder and staring at one spot on the floor. "My parents only just got their memories restored and are devastated they missed the wedding," she explained in a lower voice, her tone sad and riddled with guilt.

"You make plenty at the ministry to pay them back, and, frankly, I think that a divorce might help your parents. At least they'll know they didn't miss much and they can be around for your next one." He hadn't been joking, but Hermione sent a smirk and a playful glare that told him she'd heard sarcasm in his voice. "I'll even help pay them back if it means you'll stop complaining," he added.

"You can't, everyone still thinks your dead," Hermione responded, her expression hardened as she returned to her position by the bedposts.

"I'd come out of hiding, might as well. Can't be happy forever," he joked.

"You'd really come out of hiding for me?" She asked, a hopeful quip lacing her words.

"Well, _obviously_ it wouldn't _just_ be for you." She scoffed at the response and he smirked. "It may have escaped your notice, but being cooped up in a small flat in muggle London isn't exactly what a wizard ought to be doing his whole life. Especially a war hero such as myself," he boasted mockingly. There was a slight pause and Hermione seemed to be genuinely thinking about having him back in the open. "But for now I'll stick to my flat. Between the haircut and the moustache, I'm unrecognizable."

"Aside from your voice," she commented offhandedly, staring off out his window at the sunset. He swallowed hard at the comment, having heard her mention his voice once before and the look of reverie she gets when she does.

"Yes, there's that," he replied, tapping his finger against the hardcover of the tome beside him. "How does mister Weasley feel about you sneaking off to see me every night? Might he not be just as suspicious?" He questioned, hoping to divert the topic back to her worries.

"No, I tell him I'm working and well..." She paused with a fat sigh. "He doesn't listen to me when I talk about work. Plus, even if he had his suspicions, he would never know it was you. If he ever found out, well... He thinks your dead, so he'd be more terrified of you being alive than anything," Hermione joked, a grin returning to her lips that he easily mimicked. The crinkle beside her eyes, the way her irises caught the setting summer sun, there was something about the witch that had not failed to enrapture him since she discovered him shopping weeks ago. Severus had come accustomed to seeing her at his door every night at half past five in the evening, a look of perplexion on her face as she stood in the door frame.

"So he's completely unaware?" The wizard prodded, watching her face fall as he did.

"Not sure he has the brains to think me capable of betrayal," she answered. "I'm not sure he knows anything of what I do with my life. I talk about work and he just tunes out, he's not interested in my day. I ask about his, but he doesn't share much. We don't talk much at all really, and he's always asleep by the time I get home." Her voice was distant, sad. The pain of thinking about her failing marriage was weighing heavy on her and it was becoming more and more evident as the days went on.

"So start getting home earlier," he answered, knowing she got off early enough to see _him_. _And yet, if she ever stopped coming here, I'm not sure I'd know what to do with myself. Two years had gone by without anyone knowing where I was, and within a week of seeing her beautiful face again, I knew I can't live without it,_ he mused.

"I could." The witch shrugged and leaned her hip against the bedframe.

"So why don't you?" Severus questioned.

"Because..." Her voice broke at the word. Biting her lip, she turned to him with her brows furrowed in guilt. "I... I don't think I love him anymore. We really haven't been the same since Harry... well... you know," his mind flashed briefly to the image of the Boy-Who-Lived and he tensed.

"Yes, I'm well aware of Mister Potter's circumstances," he assured her.

"It's just- he seemed to be the glue that held the two of us together and now that he's gone it just seems..." She paused, capturing her lip between her teeth once more. "Well, it seems like we're going through the motions for someone that's not even around to witness us being in a relationship. There's nothing there, at least not for me," the witch's voice dropped low and she hugged her midriff anxiously.

"And probably not for him if he's sleeping around," Severus teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. It wasn't right, to subtly confirm a witch's fears simply to have her free for his own benefit, but there was something about her that was driving him insane. She was brilliant, witty, interesting. An insufferable know-it-all had become adept at nearly everything she did with an apt for having something to contribute to anything.

"I only _think_ he's sleeping around," she corrected him, walking slowly around the bed to perch herself on the edge of the mattress. She released a lengthy breath before she let herself lay back on the comforter. Her hand was resting on her stomach and her jumper had come up just a bit from her jeans, showing off a bit of skin he longed to touch.

"Hermione we've circled back to this for the hundredth time today, we both know what you have to do," he advised, his heart tightening at his words. He knew exactly what it was _he_ had to do and had been avoiding it for a lot longer than she had.

"I know," she answered.

"So will you?" He asked, his throat squeezing out his words.

"I suppose..." She exhaled again, before sitting up and turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Yes, alright, I'll do it. Tonight, over dinner," Hermione resolved, biting down on her lower lip and shutting her eyes tightly as she did.

He glanced over at the clock and cocked an eyebrow. _How has nearly an hour and a half passed and it feels like she just arrived?_ "You better head off then, it's almost seven," he informed her.

"Shit," she cursed, standing up quickly from the bed and gathering her purse from the dresser before slinging it over her chest. "I'll see you tomorrow," she offered as she ran out the bedroom door then out of his flat. The air seemed a bit heavier without her and he fixed his stare on the part of the mattress she'd been sitting on.

"Oh Hermione Jean Granger, what have you done to me?" He whispered to no one.

-H-

The summer heat was still far too much for her as she ran through the streets of London. It was nearing seven in the evening and yet the sun had barely begun to set. She ducked into an alley, knowing apparition would be the fastest way to get to Ron, but Severus had charmed his building to disallow the particular mode of transportation. When the witch was certain there were no muggles lurking about, she spun off and landed in her flat's living room.

"I'm home," she called, walking towards the kitchen where a rather grumpy looking ginger was sat at the bar. "How was your day?" Hermione asked breathlessly as she placed her purse on the counter and walked towards the fridge. When he didn't answer right away, she nervously filled the silence as she grabbed for a sandwich she'd made for her lunch that day but promptly forgotten before work. "I'm absolutely starving!" The witch spun around and he was standing right behind her, making her jump a bit at the proximity.

"I got sent home a bit early today, so I thought I'd pick you up from work," he started, his eyes trained on her and his entire form tensed. "Except, when I go to ask where your office is, they say you've already gone home, at five. So, I came home. _Except_ ," he emphasized, stepping forward a bit and making her yelp, dropping the meal in her hand. "You're not here. Two hours I've waited. _Two. Hours._ Where the fuck were you, Hermione?" He wasn't touching her, but most of her suspected that if he had been, she'd have been in pain.

"I-" she started but he interrupted her.

"Don't try to lie to me, 'mione. I'm not daft," he spat with his teeth clenched. "You're shagging some other bloke, aren't you? You slag." His eyes briefly travelled down her form, as if assessing her before he spun on his heel and marched back to the counter where he began tapping his fingers angrily. "You know, I work hard for us. I want us to be happy. I'm a bloody Auror for fuck's sake and all you do is push paper all day," he ranted, turning to face her once more but staying back. Hermione felt the prick of tears at her eyes and she pressed her back against the fridge, reaching for her wand as subtly as she could manage. "I come home, expecting to find a nice meal and my wife, but _no._ She's in the office all bloody day and into the night. I'm _tired_ after work. I want someone to take care of me, and now I find out you're not even _working_ until seven?" She clenched her jaw, his comment driving deep into her.

"Ronald Billius Weasley. You know _very_ well I do more than push paper all day. I work hard, for the ministry, so that you can even have a job. So that you get paid. I make twice the salary you do and _fine,_ I'm not running about chasing bad wizards all day, but I work _hard_ and I also get _tired,_ " she ranted, stepping away from the appliance and pointing her finger at him. "If you think for one _second_ that I am going to sit about at home and dote on you all bloody day, you married the wrong witch."

"Maybe I have," he commented, looking down at her over his nose. A sneer on his face rivalled that of their Potions professor and made her feel very, _very_ small in that moment.

"Then perhaps we ought to get a divorce," she spoke before she even knew what was falling from her lips.

"Damn fucking straight," he spat. "And for your information, I've been shagging Pansy Parkinson for a full fucking year and you've never even noticed. So go back to your bloke, we're done here." The wizard spun around and stomped off towards the stairs. Her heart felt as if it had been ripped from her chest and torn into a million pieces. She was livid, _furious_ , but also completely shattered. The man she had married was cheating on her for the past _year_ and she hadn't noticed. She had no _bloke_ to go back to. It was Severus bloody Snape and he was in hiding. This was _her_ flat that Ron had moved into after they got married and he was telling _her_ to leave?

"Jesus Christ," she cursed under her breath, a shuddering sob working its way through her body as she gripped the counter for support. She felt nauseous, all the trust she'd placed in her husband destroyed before her very eyes. _How did I not know?_ _How could I have gone this long without suspecting anything? Why is that only seeing Severus made me believe that my husband could be cheating on me?_ The questions spun through her mind as she collapsed onto the tile beneath her. Resting her forehead against the marble of the counter, the witch stared blankly across the room at the picture of the two of them laughing and dancing at their wedding.

It'd been a horrible affair, their wedding. _Hermione was getting ready with Ginny, who had yet to recover from Harry's sudden disappearance. The charm she'd been using to work her hair into manageable ringlets wasn't working the flowers Luna had insisted she wear over her veil kept making her sneeze. The dress didn't fit quite right, though she'd managed to transfigure it to fit a bit snugger where it should, and her maid of honour was weeping nearly constantly._

 _"You don't have to do this, Ginny, I know you're still in pain," Hermione offered, looking at her friend over her shoulder as she gave up trying to tame her hair. The ginger girl straightened her back and flattened out the burgundy dress she donned before wiping away the tears at her eyes._

 _"No, you're my best friend and you're marrying my brother, I have to be here," the girl resolved. Hermione moved to protest but Ginny placed a finger over her friend's lips. "No buts, this is happening. I'll just glamour a smile on my face and the people can think my tears are over just how beautiful you look. And you do look..." the girl's voice trailed off as she examined Hermione's form. "Why didn't you let me help pick the dress again?" Ginny asked offhandedly._

 _"It was on sale, we don't have the funds for lavish parties and fancy dresses. This was supposed to be just a quick, small arrangement. Your family really goes all out for these sorts of things," Hermione commented, flattening out the front of her taffeta gown. It really was dreadful. It was big and sparkly and though it had sleeves like she wanted, it was nothing like the subtle beauty she'd been hoping for. But it was the only one available with sleeves on such short notice._

 _"Well, either way, you're beautiful. So let's get on with it," Ginny chirped, forcing Hermione to stand from her seat._

Hermione forced herself to stand this time, wobbling to her feet and mustering all the strength she could. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pictured the street, the building, and the trees. In an instant, she whirled away and landed with a pop in front of the towering complex. She didn't look to see if anyone had seen her, instead, she ran straight for the front door and slammed on the number 713 buzzer until the door clicked open and she could enter. She took the stairs, racing up to the seventh floor before stopping outside the door. The witch took barely a minute to catch her breath as she positioned her hand to knock on the man's door. Before she could, however, it swung open and revealed a very concerned wizard glowering down at her.

"What is so urgent, _witch_?" He asked in his normal, scathing tone. The tone of voice that sent a shiver down her spine as it had when she was a student in his class. She remembered staring at him and wondering what it was that had made him so dark and angry. She'd considered being the one to fix him, to bring light back into his life. Her heart had been crushed when he died, and even more so when she discovered that his one true love had been her best friend's mother all along. She'd settled for Ron, she knew that then and as she stood in front of the towering wizard, she was distinctly reminded of that fact.

"I was right," she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He nodded once, moving out of the way and letting her in. Hesitating a moment, she stepped through before turning to face him and standing just a bit too close to him. The witch threw her arms around him and slammed her lips against his, pulling herself close to him. Panic set in quickly after, but it was calmed by his arms snaking around her waist and tugging her into him further. They broke apart and he looked into her eyes, a look of lust and worry mixed in his gaze.

"Oh how I longed for that," he breathed before kissing her once more.

* * *

 **I'm not sure where I want to go with this... I just saw that adorable gifset with her in the bathtub and him teasing her about valuing his solitude. Let me know if this is a story you'd want me to continue and if so- where should it go?**


	2. Chapter 2

For loveyoudown who requested the gifs: If you go to my blog www. thislifeisawasteland. tumblr. com, the gif sets will be the first two posts. I'd link them separately, but I think this might be easier? Since I can't post links and you can't copy, the URL is pretty easy to remember!

Chapter 2. Memories

-H-

 _Hermione lay back on the bed, sending wisps of magic into the air as she waited, impatiently, for her guest to join her. "What's taking so long?" She asked, having been ready to go by the time he'd arrived. Groaning, she looked over to the closet and noted the glow of magic from the crack under the door and sighed. Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up and pounded her fist against the flimsy door. "Come on, we can't be late! It's my wedding and you promised you'd come!" The witch insisted before the door slide aside from under her arm making her falter. The dark-haired wizard gave her the grimmest expression she'd ever seen from him as he pushed past her and into her bedroom. Biting her tongue to hold back a chuckle, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame as she eyed him. He was wearing trousers that were pressed and crisp, along with a white button-down and a small burgundy bow-tie she had made him promise to wear._

 _"I don't know why you need me there, Hermione," he groused, gathering his shoes from the corner before sitting down on the bed and looking up at her. "You know he's my best friend too, you're making me choose here." Harry had returned from whatever country he'd buggered off to after the war just to come to her wedding. Seeing friends and family die for him broke him in a way Hermione hadn't ever seen in the boy. So many people had died for him over the years at Hogwarts, and he knew that. He always tried to be on his own, but no one would let him. He couldn't stand to look at Ginny another moment after Fred died and immediately broke up with her. They'd supposed he'd gone to Bulgaria or Romania, but no one was truly sure. It had been a matter of luck that she'd gotten the invitation to him in time and he accepted the position to walk her down the aisle._

 _Her parents still couldn't remember ever having a child and wouldn't be walking her down anything. Ginny wasn't pleased, naturally, with the choice, but Hermione had guaranteed the girl that she and Luna would be the only ones helping Hermione get dressed and Harry would just show up later. Unfortunately, he was rather over-grown, and she had made him shave off his beard and get a haircut before he could attend anything, thereby making the two of them late for her own getting_ ready.

Remembering her first wedding hurt her heart beyond belief as she laid in her bed she once shared with her husband. Somehow, he'd be considerate enough to have his things packed and removed by the time she'd gotten home from Severus' flat. There was no other bloke, there was a man who cared. Biting her lip, she held back a stinging sob as she clutched her blanket closer to her.

 _"I was right."_ The image of herself leaping into the man's arms to kiss him nearly made her sick. She was barely a minute separated from her husband of two years and best friend of a decade, before she threw herself at another man. " _Oh, how I longed for that,"_ his words rang in her head as she replayed the scene in her head a million times. A loud, strangled cry escaped her mouth as she curled into her further and tears streamed from her eyes and off her cheeks.

 _He spun her around, beaming down at her with the dorky, lopsided smile he always had for her. His ginger hair was coiffed back, obviously done up by one of his brothers and he wore the nicest dress robes she'd ever seen. Surrounded by family, friends, everyone she loved as she danced the night away with the boy she'd always wanted to. Every stumble, every argument, or heartbreak between them melted away in that moment. For that second, they were the happiest two people in the entire world. He folded her into his arms and the two swayed as the music slowed and then suddenly stopped. Opening her eyes, she watched her guests look around and two each other in panic, then the whispers started._

 _Moving away from her warmth, she spun to look in the direction they all were and watched a parade of American Aurors she knew from the Ministry storm into the centre of the dance floor. "Hermione Jean Granger?" One of them barked and she stepped forward just a bit more, nodding._

 _"What is this about?" She asked, her tone shaking as she caught Harry pushing through the crowd from the corner of her eye. Instead of coming towards her though, he was slipping away._

 _"You're under arrest for aiding and abetting a fugitive of the law, Harry James Potter, please follow me," he grunted, placing a hand on her back. She shook him off instinctively, leaping back into the arms of her husband and staring at the hoard of intruders, appalled. Once more, her gaze was pulled in the direction of her friend who had nearly made it to the edge of the tent when he was seized by a rather brutish looking Auror._

 _"There must be some mistake, he's a war hero! He saved the entire wizarding world of Voldemort!" Hermione cried as the room seemed to get louder around her. People were screaming in agreeance with her, calling the officials to let him go, to let her go._

"Our marriage was doomed from the beginning," Hermione squeaked as she banished the memory from her mind.

-S-

It was nearing the time she would normally arrive at his door with a new concern, a new topic, and every fibre of his being was screaming that she wouldn't be there. Not after she kissed him, not after she left his flat in a frenzy of regret. The pit that was growing in his stomach had been there since she very first spotted him in the market, since he was very first found to be very alive. Somehow, in that second where her lips melted into his and he held the witch in his arms, that pit had vanished. Had she asked, he would have very easily come out of hiding, announced himself to the world as a fraud who had lied about his death because he simply couldn't face the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived knowing how obsessed he'd become with the boy's mother. She had become a habit, something he could blame his actions on. He did it all for her, becoming a spy, saving her son, killing Dumbledore. It was all in her name, but why? She never loved him, he was awful to her as they grew older and she was not the least bit understanding as he fell in with the Death Eaters.

Severus had grown up and over that obsession in his two years of solitude. There was no one to remind him of what he had done, who he had lost, so he had managed to work on himself. He was still a grumpy piece of black clothing, but that was a habit just like any else. He'd grown a moustache and changed his hair so that no one would recognize him, but frankly, his scarring might have done that enough for him. The magic in that blasted snake's venom had done a number on his neck, but somehow, he had lived, and he was not about to waste that second chance.

 _Gathering some produce from the market was benign but needed to be done as he was rapidly running low on food from his last shopping trip. He'd adopted a cat who was eating him out of house and home, and it seemed he would need to begin shopping for two instead of just himself. The grey feline was nothing but needy and affectionate, getting her fur all over his robes and furnishings. She didn't have a name, since the only one that truly suited her was a painful reminder of the magical world and not something, he cared to burden his pet with. Though he had slipped up and called her Miss Granger a handful of times throughout her few weeks at his flat._

 _A smirk graced his lips as he thought about the cat and turned around, bumping into someone, and quietly apologizing before walking off in the same direction as the crowd. There was a bakery down the way that sold his absolute favourite bread and he wasn't about to miss out on it. As he stepped in line with the other people, he felt a tug on his sleeve and he turned around to see a very shocked and almost scared Hermione Granger staring up at him with the most captivating brown eyes he'd ever seen. Something about the setting summer sun flickering in her irises made his stomach leap into his throat. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to speak, to say anything as the realization he'd been discovered flushed through his veins._

 _"Professor Snape?" She asked in a strangled voice._

The witch had since weaselled her way into his life, into every corner of his day, whether it was intentional or not. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and he had ultimately given the cat her name, which had become rather confusing when Hermione had started visiting. The number of times the brunette had asked after the feline's title was beginning to make him debate coming up with a fake name. He'd deferred by saying he hadn't thought of one yet, or just called her _cat_ , but the grey mass of fur only responded to _Miss Granger_ and so Hermione was having a difficult time trying to get the pet's attention.

Leaning back into his chair, he felt her leap into his lap and curl up, her paws pressing into his legs to make him wince before she ultimately spread out her weight a bit more evenly. Severus mindlessly ran his hand over her back until she began purring and smiled as he stared off at his bookshelf.

 _"You've got quite the collection," Hermione commented as she walked about his flat. He was making tea and barely glanced at her over his shoulder to see which collection she had been referring to. A smirk tugged at his cheek and he rolled his eyes._ Ever the bookworm, _he'd mused as he poured the hot water over a couple of Earl Grey tea bags._

 _"Yes, I've had quite a lot of time on my hands since my forced retirement from teaching," he replied, setting the kettle down and placing the teapot on a grey with two mugs. Walking over to her, he placed the tray down on the coffee table and took up one of his chairs, watching her move around his home. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her curls were pinned up and out of her face. She wore a tight grey skirt and matching jacket with an olive-green blouse underneath that immediately reminded him of Slytherin. "Tea?" He asked, drawing her attention away from the spines of his novels._

 _"Mm, yes please, thank you," she responded mindlessly before looking about the rest of the living area then taking a seat. The witch crossed her legs and avoided his eyes as she clasped her hands over her knee. It took all his power not to gaze at the length of her legs and instead focus on pouring the hot liquid into her mug. She whipped out her wand to help in pouring milk in sugar, but he snapped it back from her quickly and without consideration. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him and he realized what he had done._

 _"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, it's just-" His cat let out a soft meow and jumped onto his lap. Distracted for a moment by the new guest on his person but looked down at his feline and lifted her from his legs. "Sorry, no. I- There's no magic in my flat. The ministry cannot know I'm alive," he explained, handing her wand back to her. With a frown, she took it back and tucked it away, picking up the milk and pouring it manually. There was a moment of quiet that seemed to drag on forever before she cracked a bit of a smile. Bringing the tea to her lips, she finally made eye contact with him that sent his stomach fluttering._

 _"I understand, sir, but you know I_ am _the ministry?" She joked, and he rolled his eyes._

 _"I trust your discretion, Miss Granger," he rebutted in a low tone, but his pet heard him anyway, leaping back into his lap and nearly knocking the tea out of his hand. He grumbled a bit, wiping the bit of a spill that landed on his shirt away, and leaning back as she adjusted her sitting position. "Blasted cat," he grumbled, unable to help the smirk on his lips._

 _"She's quite an adorable little kitty, what breed?" Hermione asked between sips._

 _"Maincoon I was told, though I wouldn't put it past her to be Professor McGonagall just living her life to annoy me."_

Hermione laughed at the comment, and for the first time, he knew he was in love with her. Her laugh triggered something in him that made his heart ache and scream with joy all at the same time. Her smile, her wit. Something in him changed with that simple gesture, that one interaction and he was hooked. His clinked his glass with his finger, glancing at the clock and noting that she was later than she normally was. There had only been one other day the girl was late, not long after she'd started coming by regularly.

 _There was a rap at the door that Severus answered quickly, throwing the door open to reveal a very soaking wet Hermione Granger. He took a moment to assess the situation before ushering her in and helping her from her drenched coat. "What on earth?" He whispered, setting it in the dryer not far from the door. "It's a monsoon out there, Miss Granger, and you still managed to show up?" He asked, concern lacing his voice as he watched her peel off her cardigan and hand it to him._

 _"Ronald was out again, and I- well I didn't want to stay home alone waiting for him, so I thought- well... I'm not sure what I thought, but I'm freezing," she emphasized with a shiver. Taking her cardigan and putting it in the machine along with her coat, he placed a hand on her back, an action that sent a jolt through his arm, and guided her towards the bathroom. With a flick of his hand, he started the bath with hot water. She sat down on the toilet seat and took her shoes off and socks, which he took to dry as well._

 _"When you're undressed, hop in the water and let me know, I'll gather the rest of your things to dry them. Just leave them by the door," Severus instructed, walking towards the door with her shoes and socks in hand. "If you need anything, just call for me," he added, knowing she likely wouldn't as he stepped out of the room. The thought of her getting naked in his bathroom made him all sorts of crazy, but he reigned it in and placed her shoes by the fireplace he had roaring and tossed her socks in with her jacket and cardigan. He waited impatiently outside the door before the water turned off and he faintly heard his name._

 _"Severus," her voice was soft but audible, and he pushed open the door just enough to see the pile she'd left on the ground. "Severus," she repeated, and he stayed in place, holding her bundle of dripping wet clothing in his hand. "Do you mind if I use magic? Just a bit, I just want to-" He didn't let her finish before responding._

 _"Whatever you need, Hermione." He closed to door and started her load in the dryer. He realized that if she were performing magic, it would have been far quicker to simply charm her clothes dry, but he had gotten used to the muggle way of doing things. As the wizard strolled back towards the door, he silently sat outside the door and released a loud sigh, waiting to hear the sound of magic coming from the room._

 _"I figured out another way," she called, her voice much louder this time._

 _His eyebrow cocked, he stood and opened the door a bit. "Another way to what?" He asked, knowing his nose was likely the only thing she'd be able to see from her vantage point._

 _"Make the water foggy, so you can come chat. You can come in," she invited, making his heart pound faster in his chest. Slowly, he relented and opened the door a little wider, the porcelain tub coming into view. She was seated in the water opposite him, with her wet hair tied back, and the majority of her form submerged in the foggy water. He leaned against the door frame and held onto the door itself to keep balanced. There was a moment of silence as she stared off at the tap between her feet._

 _"Trouble in paradise?" He asked, knowing the furrow in the brow and the way her chest rose and fall with heavy falling breaths meant she was thinking about her husband. That's all she seemed to think about as of late, her husband and his lack of faith. And yet, in this moment, it felt he was just that much closer to ruining her faith. He was constantly torn between loving her, wanting her for himself, and being the friend she needed, the person who would listen no matter what she needed to say. He had long since decided it didn't matter how he felt about her, he would be whatever she needed._

 _"It was never paradise," she whispered forlornly, sinking a little further into the water. He stepped in, sitting down beside the tub on the floor and leaning against the wall. The witch turned to face him and let a smile play on her lips for a moment before it rushed away. Submersing herself, her knees appeared above the lip of the tub and he noted the bruising on her skin. When she resurfaced, he banished his look of concern and watched her wipe the water from her face and into her hair. Her collar bones glistened with the moisture and he had to drag his eyes back to the feet of porcelain holding the basin up. "Why don't you come back?" She asked when she could open her lids once more._

 _"Come back?" He repeated._

 _"To the wizarding world, you're a hero you know," she explained but he just shook his head._

 _"I know," he confirmed. The quiet hung between them and he leaned forward, resting his chin on the edge of the tub and looking at the water around her knee. "I value my solitude," he continued._

 _"And yet, here I am," she teased, tapping his nose with her finger once. He smiled briefly, watching her face shift into a smile before his eyes travelled back to the bruising on her knee._

 _"What happened there?" He asked, slowly realizing just how close he was to seeing the witch, unobstructed, naked. Quickly, the wizard leaned back against the wall and eyed her carefully. Her face had fallen, likely from his recognizance of her injury, but part of him hoped it was because he'd shifted away from her._

 _"The ministry floor was a little slippery and I went over is all," she explained in a tone that suggested it was a little less than the truth._

 _"Onto your knees?" The wizard questioned._

 _"Mhm," she nodded, looking away from him._

 _"How do I not belie-"_

Severus was roused from his memory at the sound of rapping on the door. Swiftly, he stood and rushed over, turning the nob and throwing it open. Once more, a rather wet Hermione Granger stood before him with a determined expression on her face.

"I didn't slip," she asserted. His brows furrowed at he continued looking down at her. Noting his confusion, she continued, "I didn't slip that time when you saw my knees. Remember? I was at home and thinking about that time- last week when I said I'd fallen at the ministry and Ronald was out, he wasn't out. I didn't slip. He pushed me and I landed on my knees and so I left. That's why I was out in the rain."

Rage boiled inside of him at the thought and he moved forward to push past her, but she stopped him. "That bastard will pay, Hermione," he insisted.

"He will," she agreed. "In court," she continued. "He won't take half of anything from me. What's mine is mine and I will make sure of that, but I need you to help me. I need you to come to court," she explained and his stomach sank.

"As far as the _courts_ are concerned, I am dead, Hermione," he replied calmly.

"I know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Birthday Severus you damn fine professor you!**

 **Sorry for the long hiatus! I've been moving into my new apartment, getting settled and working on two certifications for my new job! It's been a busy time but I finally had some to sit down and write this. It's a little short but I think pleasently steamy. Looking forward to your comments!**

Chapter 3. Whispers

-S-

Severus sat in his reading chair as he watched the rain pound against the window. It was the beginning of September and the weather was rushing its way towards fall, making the world damp and the sky gloomy. The month was perfect for reading, which is what he spent most of his time doing, anyway. The witch had found him in the middle of August when the world was hot and bright. Now it was growing colder, bleaker, as the witch was too. The thought of returning to the wizarding world after all this time frightened him more than anything. He had killed the leader of the light, fought alongside the dark, his motives were twisted and it had all come to be public knowledge upon his death.

He wasn't sure if the world forgave him, as Hermione protested they did, and he loathed to think of the faces of pity. Even worse was the image of those who once hated him, praising him as a war hero. He'd done nothing, simply died for no good reason because the Dark Lord was too far up his own arse to know what the real rules of magic were. And too many knew his love for Lily, the mother of the Boy-Who-Lived-and-Fell. The pathetic display of his Patronus prancing about the Headmaster's office used as proof of his ultimate loyalty to the light. He released a forceful exhale at that and sunk further into his chair. Severus Snape was a murderer who had escaped only to die by the hand of the wizard who had actioned him to kill and no amount of rose-coloured paint would make him look any different in his own eyes.

It had been a few days since Hermione had last visited him, surely disappointed by his immediate denial of her request. The wizarding world was no longer his home and they would not welcome him back from the grave with open arms. It'd been too long, too much time spent lying to them and hiding. They had placed him in a frame, proudly displaying their second Headmaster to die for the Potter cause, and revered him as the saint they wanted to believe he was.

The retired professor had spent the hours since Hermione left his home in another fit of tears trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing. _I value my solitude,_ he recalled repeating, hoping that once against Hermione would break a smile and touch his nose like she had that one time. _Praying_ she would know that, even if he couldn't bring himself to reenter the world he had lost, there would always be room in his flat for her. In his _heart_ for her.

"It seems, however, that you have just _fucked_ that up royally, haven't you?" He grumbled to himself, furrowing his brows and willing himself not to imagine the girl. The number of times she had come to his home, her face twisted with frustration or anger, only to leave with even a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips, ran through his thoughts repeatedly. He remembered how she had gotten attached to the cat with her namesake, and the way her hair looked wet.

The wizard looked out his window once more at the bustling street below him. Umbrellas moving in such a way it seemed almost choreographed. He noted one, in particular, moving against the flow of traffic, that had roses against a grey background and a gold top that was an inch or two lower than the others, ducking just underneath the passing muted tones. It bobbed all the way to the front of his building where it turned and disappeared under the awning to the front entrance.

There was a moment of peace where the solitude of his life sank into every bone in his body. He'd believed so strongly that there was nothing more in life that he wanted than to be alone. The quiet it of it all. But since having the Know-it-all back in his life, the noise, the conversation. There was nothing more in life he wanted than to be with her. The hum of being alone was becoming too much for him to bear and every fibre of his core screamed to get her back, to get Hermione back into his life. Just as the silence became so loud, he thought he ought to scream to rid himself of it, a knock at the door filled the air. He sat, shocked, staring at the white wooden door to his flat and paused. A flicker in his heart made him picture the wild brunette standing on the other side, while part of him screamed at him to be reasonable. He had let her down, denied her safety. He had put his own needs above hers, and even though he regretted it, she did not know. Hermione Granger would not grace his flat with her presence again. Whoever was on the other side of the passageway, it was not her.

 _What if it is her? Will you take it all back? You value your solitude but what about what is waiting for you if you leave? The judgement, the hatred that followed you around while you were alive won't go away simply because The-Boy-Who-Lived proclaimed you a hero. At any rate, that same boy is on his way to prison._ The doubt lingered in his mind as he forced himself to stand and stride over to the door, wrapping his fist around the handle and pulling it open. Against every doubt, there she stood, bone dry but a fire in her eyes that he had missed before.

"Are you going to help me, Severus?" Hermione asked before he could even greet her. The witch's voice was firmer and more even than it had been the first time she'd asked him the favour. There was a hint of optimism, though, in her eyes, as though she were certain he would say no as he had but hope he might agree. It was that glint that wrapped around his heart and gave a tight squeeze. Severus stared down at her, taking in the flecks of gold in her irises, the curve of her jaw and the small wrinkle in her forehead. With a sigh, he leaned more against the door and sighed.

"Is there really no other way?" He asked, watching her intently as her form relaxed substantially.

"You're considering it," she exhaled, a smile daring to pull at her lips. The witch hid it well, though, biting the flesh between her teeth and crossing her arms over her chest. He swallowed hard but held her gaze for a moment longer before slipping back and walking into his living room. She followed shortly thereafter and rubbed the back of his neck.

"If I come back and I'm greeted with nothing scepticism and disdain for making them believe I was dead, my word will mean nothing in court," Severus justified, scratching the head and wincing as he turned around to face her. "I may have been a hero because Mister Potter said I was, but I won't be if I lied about being dead. I am not, and never have been, a hero, Hermione."

"If you're so afraid of coming back, why are you even considering it?" She asked, her voice breaking. He watched as her shoulders fell, her hope drained from her expression, and the breath left her lungs. He had broken her, _again._ It was one simple favour that she was asking of him, to return to the wizarding world and proclaim to all that Ronald Weasley had been a terrible husband and not worthy of the damages he sought. All he needed to do was corroborate her story, to tell the world that she deserved to annul the marriage instead of divorce. Divorced was tricky in the wizarding world, and it was only undertaken in the most dire of situations. Her word alone against him was not strong enough to truly remove her from the relationship, and they both knew it. That, however, was not the reason he was considering returning to the wizarding world. She knew what she was getting into when she took the vow, when she married into a pure-blood wizarding family the traditional way. Unfortunately, his reasoning was far less selfless.

"Because I'm more afraid of the day you stop coming here."

-H-

"It's going to take a bit more convincing, but I think I'll be able to get him to do it," Hermione muttered to her cat as she penned a letter to the courts. He was afraid of losing her, but not enough that it would make the decision an easy one. He was still unsure of the reaction of his return from the grave in the wizarding world because of the faith lost in Harry Potter, so she would restore the faith. It was a simple solution to break down one of the many excuses Severus was building around. "Well, if only it was simple," she sighed as Crookshanks rubbed against her leg.

 _Dear Minister,_

 _After the war, something broke inside Harry Potter. He had lost many of his friends and family in the battles leading up to the final defeat of Lord Voldemort and had little access to the resources to help him cope with that stress. While he had tried his hand at being an Auror, it did not help him. Instead, I believe it may have only made it worse and driven him to a different country. In his journey of self-rediscovery, our Mister Potter encountered some people who were perhaps not the best influences on him in his state. This led to him committing some crimes whilst abroad._

 _When he returned to Britain to attend my wedding, he had somehow escaped the influences of those people. However, he had also escaped their protection, and this led to his arrest._

 _While I do not know the full story or exactly what it was that transpired while he was away, I know that there is nothing that he could do that would make him deserve to go to prison. Harry Potter saved the entire wizarding world from the reign of Lord Voldemort and consequently saved my life, as a muggle born._

 _I ask you to forgive his transgressions, or at least hear him out and let him apologize. Allow him to explain what led him to commit the crimes of which he is accused. Give him a fair trial. He deserves as much for saving our lives._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hermione Granger_

The witch looked down at her penmanship and rolled her eyes, taking the paper into her hands and crumpling it up. As she threw it against the wall, she let out a primal grunt which made her half-Kneazle jump beside her.

"Sorry Crooks," she muttered, standing from her chair and throwing herself onto her bed. It smelt distinctly of Ronald which made her want to vomit, but she rolled into her back instead. "Oh Severus, please help me," she whispered, clutching her forearm as tears pricked at her eyes.

 _"Miss Granger?" An unamused prison guard droned from his spot behind the desk opposite her. Hermione stood instantly, Ron following shortly behind her._

 _"Yes, here, hi," she stammered, shuffling to the desk, balancing her bag on her shoulder while managing her transfigured wedding dress._

 _"You can see him now, your friend must stay behind," the guard said, and Hermione spun to face her husband. The ginger rolled his eyes and sat back down, grumbling something about being her husband not just her friend._

 _Hermione ignored her disgruntled partner and followed the guard down a gated hall. They passed through what seemed like an excessive number of gates all shut with charmed locks to avoid escape and finally reached the end of the all with Hermione nearly completely out of breath from holding up her skirts. They took an elevator down an impossible number of floors before it came to a screeching halt, forcing Hermione to grab onto the wall for support._

 _The guard led her down another hall and stopped just short of a solid metal door before he began casting a series of complicated charms. The witch was too shaken by the gloomy atmosphere to pay any attention to the words he was saying. He stepped aside, and the door flew open. Harry was sitting in a chair in the middle of the otherwise empty room, looking down at the floor with his eyes wide but he wasn't blinking._

 _"Harry?" Her voice trembled as she stepped towards him cautiously. He didn't look up, his gaze transfixed, and her heart sunk a bit. "What happened? Why were you arrested?" Hermione whispered, kneeling on the floor, her dress catching under her knee and making her wobble a bit. "Harry?"_

A knock at the door drew her from her memory and Hermione leapt to her feet. Wrapping her wool cardigan around her more tightly, she strode out into her living room to reach the front door of her home. On the other side was a very wet Severus Snape. He didn't say anything as they locked eyes for a moment, so the silence began to weigh on her.

"I didn't know it was raining," she commented. The older wizard cracked a smile and stood up a bit straighter, flattening his hair behind his ears.

"It is. Just a bit though. May I come in?" Hermione bowed out of the way to let him in. He very quickly dried himself with a simple charm to avoid dripping on her floor before taking a seat on her over-stuffed sofa.

"Just come to dry off and sit?" She asked, hoping that she would be wrong. He made a quiet, though pained, groan as she slowly stepped towards him and propped herself on the edge of her favourite armchair. She eyed his moustache which twitched as he seemed to delve further into thought, lengthening the silence. He had aged, certainly, since she last saw him as Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he was still undeniably handsome in a rather unconventional sense. She had always admired his wit and intelligence, but desperately brushed her feelings off at nothing more than a school girl crush. But as she sat and stared at him longer, the feelings were rushing back to her like they had when they'd kissed.

 _Oh, the kiss,_ she moaned internally. She was never quite sure if she thought back on that moment with joy or disgust at her brashness. She was married, unhappily or not, and she couldn't just be giving into passion when she needed the courts on her side. There was nothing but a weak prenuptial agreement at best to keep Ron from having half of her estate.

"I have come to tell you that I-" his breath caught as Hermione's hopes rose substantially. "That I will help you with your separation from Mister Weasley." Once again, the witch was overcome with the urge to fling herself into the arms of the professor sitting opposite her, but she somehow managed to keep them at bay.

She moved to stand up from her spot, to thank him properly, or anything as she attempted to form her words of gratitude. "Oh, thank y-"

"On the condition that," he interrupted, and she leaned back into her seat. "that you offer me protection of sorts. If I am to be found out, that I am indeed alive, then I will likely be swarmed by people trying to get more information than I am willing to give. To avoid this, I was hoping to move somewhere more secluded and safer."

"Like my home," she finished for him, knowing where he was headed in his request. The thought of having Severus as a permanent roommate made her happier than it probably should have. She would have her companion within reach at all times and there was plenty of room for him in her home. Ron had planned to have many children and insisted Hermione buy one with at least two extra rooms. One she used for her home office and the other was a guest suite until Hermione deemed herself ready to have children with the redhead, which had never happened.

"Yes, I thought I might- well there are other options," he answered, looking off down the hall that led to her study.

"Of course, you can stay here, of course," she whispered, standing up once more. He took got to his feet and the two of them stood nearly chest-to-chest. Looking up into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat and she gingerly placed her hand on his arm. "I would love to have you here." It was those words that broke the tension between them as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

A gasp escaped her lips but she quickly folded into him and pressed her mouth more firmly to his, pulling him down closer to her with her arms snaked around his neck. His hand against the small of her back, holding her close to him made her moan into the embrace and it only encouraged him. The part of her rational mind that was still working tugged out her wand and send a few wordless protection charms around the home to keep intruders, such as her husband, from entering in on the display.

He swept her up and placed her on the couch, kissing her more passionately now, then trailing his lips down her neck. It'd been too long since she felt the tingling sensation scatter over her skin as she shrugged off her cardigan. His hands ran up under her shirt and he followed them with his mouth. He sucked at the flesh he exposed, pushing the skirt over her breasts. The air met her bare chest with a bite and he quickly warmed them once more with his hands.

"Oh gods, Severus," she moaned, running her hand up his side and tugging at his shirt. Somehow, she managed to flick her wand with her hand that was trapped between him and the couch and rid them both of their clothes.

"Impatient?" He purred against her neck. Without hesitation, he cupped her arse and positioned himself at her entrance, invading her in one swift movement. She felt his entire length enter her channel and she arched her back as a loud groan escaped her. He began thrusting into her at an even pace as he held himself above her with one hand while the other stayed gripped on her rear. Every beat sent her climbing up a hill of pleasure, the sensation one that she had dearly missed in her marriage.

As she neared her peak, Severus released a fevered groan and pressed his hips hard against hers. As she recognized what had happened, she began falling from her height quickly and laid back. "Sorry," the wizard grumbled, making Hermione blush as she lay, unstatisfied, beneath him.

"It's alright," she conceded, thinking quite angrily to herself that it was, in fact, _not_ alright. She expected, as Ron had every time, that he would get up, clean up with a flick of his wand, and return to whatever benign task it was that she had interrupted with her _desires._ But, instead, her professor kneeled in front of the couch, positioned her hips to face him, draping her legs over his shoulders, before quickly taking her nub into his mouth and laying his tongue flat against it. She moaned at the new sensation and adjusted herself on the couch. Severus began sucking and licking, whilst pumping his fingers in and out of her, hitting her spot in the same way he had been before he finished. Soon, she was at her peak again and moaning loudly, squealing with pleasure before she finally reached her released and bucked her hips with every throb of her clit. "Oh gods, Severus," she groaned as shiver ran over her.

"I'm sorry for-" he began as he took a seat next to her naked form on the couch but she placed her hand over his mouth in a daze.

"Shush, that was incredible," she smiled before licking her lips and tossing her weak legs over his lap. Hermione felt his hand trail over her legs and she forced herself to open her eyes. He was pensive, looking down at the ground over her knees and chewing his lips. "What's wrong?" She questioned, propping herself up on her elbows and eyeing him skeptically.

He frowned, trying to come up with the words to explain what exactly was going through his mind. "That wasn't- you didn't just- we didn't- it wasn't just because I said I would help you?"

"No, Severus, I didn't sleep with you just because you said you would help me," she answered. He visibly relaxed and she pulled herself into a sitting position, snaking her arms around his neck once more and kissing him deeply. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time." Her whisper landed on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4. Anything**

-S-

He felt as though he'd been swimming in the glimmers of her eyes for hours as they lay on the couch, entwined. Every inch of Hermione's body was hot against his skin but he dared cover them with a blanket in case she was cold. She snuggled in, placing her head under his chin and nuzzling into him. Her knee was awfully close to his throbbing member, as he reeled from the affair. It had been a long while since he'd had the pleasure of a witch's touch and it showed with his body's unfortunate need to finish quickly.

"Severus," Hermione muttered, her breath brushing over his chest. The professor gently placed his hand on the witch's back, close to but not touching her rear, as he hummed encouragingly. Propping herself up on her hand, she looked down at him, her wild curls falling about her face, a smile painted on her lips. Hermione leaned down and kissed him gently, before whispering against his lips, "if you're going to come back to the wizarding world, you _must_ get rid of that moustache."

"My moustache? I quite like it actually, don't you?" The wizard retorted with a chuckle. The witch leaned back on her legs, her breasts fully exposed, quickly ridding him of his humourous mood.

"It makes you look older," she taunted, her hand on one calf, the innermost part of her thigh resting on the other. Any adjustment made would result in her folds being pressed directly against his shin.

"I _am_ older," he choked out before taking a sharp intake of air.

"You know what I mean," her voice nearing a purr as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Also, your hair is far too light."

"You prefer the dark greasy hair, do you?" He began to wonder if the desire for him to look as he would have as her professor came from a lingering fantasy that developed long before he had died.

"I prefer _you,_ " she stated, leaning forward and drawing her hips into the air. She kissed him once again and he found his hands trailing down to her hips. In one swift movement, she stood up from the couch and reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head. "However, the world will expect you to look much the same as you did and that starts with your moustache and your hair." With her absence, cold rushed over him so he too grabbed for his pants and trousers.

Fastening the button on his slacks, he walked over the mirror handing above the narrow table by the front door. He looked at his greying moustache and his grey and blonde locks and smirked. "Alright, so I'll fix it," with a flick of his wand, the glamour he had placed on his appearance when he first went into hiding fell away. His long black hair hung about his face as though nothing had changed, though perhaps a bit cleaner as he was no longer hunched over a cauldron all day. His upper lip void of hair, as he liked to keep it, and his nose as prominent as ever. That part of the moustache had been his favourite, as it disguised the size of his snout. It also helped to draw attention away from the wrinkles digging trenches in his face, making him feel even older now than with his greying features.

Hermione's face appeared beside his shoulder, as no level of tiptoes would allow her to rest her chin _on_ his shoulder. The witch snaked her arms around his waist and dipped into the waistband of his pants. He groaned as she gripped his cock, stroking it as much she could. "Now _that's_ the Severus I know," her whisper broke him, and he turned swiftly on his heel. In nothing but a shirt, he spun her around and pressed her against the wall.

His fingers toyed with her dripping warmth before he pushed down his pants and trousers, then positioned himself at her entrance and slammed into her. A gasp escaped her lips as he thrust into her, gripping her thighs and holding them apart, her feet nearly off the ground. No one had ever made him feel so ravenous and primal, her perfume did something to him that was unexplainable. She had never been one to tease to play as he'd known her in adulthood. Hermione was calm and calculated, as if everything had to be perfect. An assessment he'd made of himself as well.

Severus felt Hermione grip his wrist, releasing his hold on her leg and guiding it up to her hair. Obligingly, he seized a fistful of her curls and pulled on them hard, releasing an erotic cry from the witch. He moved his other hand to play with her swollen clit as she pressed her palms against the wall for support. His trusts quickened as her gasps become shallower.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, her weight of her hanging off his shoulders as her legs seemed to give out from under her. He released her hair and leaned against the wall to compensate. "I'm cumming," the younger witch called, her head falling back as her body shook, her warmth throbbing against his fingers. He pleasure sent a jolt down to his own member which was begging for a release he hadn't quite reached. As Severus unsheathed himself from her, she turned around and slid down onto her knees. "It's my turn," Hermione murmured before taking his length in her mouth. Her tongue flicked against the head, sending shivers up his spine as he grabbed onto her hair once more. She seemed to make quick work of him, massaging the length shaft she couldn't fit in her mouth, and sent him spilling into her throat. To his pleasant shock, she swallowed his substance and sucked out every last drop until he was completely clean.

Standing up, she placed her lips gently against his. "Thank you, Professor." _This was definitely a fantasy she'd been brewing,_ he confirmed closing his eyes. He tried to think of her back then, in his classes. Her hand always raised with the right answer on the tip of her tongue. He hadn't thought much of her then. She was a student, and he was her teacher, he had other things to worry about than teenage girls fawning over him. Which was another thing he hadn't thought of much.

-H-

Looking up into his eyes as the taste of her words began to rot in her mouth. " _Thank you, Professor"? What am I trying to do? We're both adults and now I've just gone and reminded him I was once his student. Fuck._ Her mind began to spiral as the silence dragged on. Hermione didn't know what to do with herself. _Do I just keep looking at him? Do I turn away? Look down? Apologize? What is he thinking? What was I thinking?_ Her mind was silenced when he closed the seemingly growing distance between them and kissed her softly.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," he purred against her lips. _Oh fuck,_ heat washed over her. _Why did this have to be my fantasy?_

A laugh bubbled up and out of her mouth, a smile pushing out her lips as she rested her forehead against his collarbone. "Oh, Severus, how you humour me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him closely. The wizard took the opportunity to kiss her cheek and hold her close. "Thank you for doing this, for agreeing to come to court and helping me win this." Tears began to scratch her throat and prick her eyes. "I know this can't be easy, coming out of hiding. You're sacrificing so much for me."

"I would sacrifice anything for you." Her heart hurt and he pressed herself just a bit closer to him.

She wanted to pour her heart out to him, share her every thought and feeling. He had been her closest friend through the hell Ronald had put her through. There were doubts, moments where she thought it had been her fault he'd strayed. She hadn't given him the hoards of children he begged for, put her job first, maybe that's why he had to look elsewhere for company and comfort. Severus had assured her that if he had gone to bed with another woman, there was nothing Hermione could have done to stop him. Ronald would have come up with some justification to get what he wanted and that was just the way he was.

The comfort his words brought her allowed her to sleep and eat and get through a workday when she had done nothing but sit and worry before. For once, she wanted to bring him peace, but instead, she pried him from his peace and solitude and demanded he helped her once more. _Am I so greedy?_ She wondered, still buried in his arms. _He would sacrifice anything for me, but should he have to?_

"Are you crying?" He hummed. Hermione felt his deep voice resonate through her bones and she shivered.

"Hm?" She asked, pulling away and looking up at him, feeling the wet on her cheek. "Oh, I suppose I am." Hermione wiped what was left of the tears from her cheeks and sniffled while Snape's expression morphed into one of concern.

"Would you like to share what is bothering you?" Shaking her head in response, she leaned back into him, into her escape.

"I never thought I would need anyone as I need you," the witch confessed in a shaky breath, tears once against threatening her eyes.

"And I, you, Hermione," he sighed, resting his cheek against her head, pulling her tighter to his chest. "You are everything I didn't know I needed."

-S-

He took Hermione to bed, her exhaustion over the proceedings messing more with her emotions than he had originally assumed, and she passed out nearly immediately. It felt wrong to snuggle up in her bed beside her, having not been invited to stay and how the Weasley boy had very likely slept there recently enough. So Severus sat on the edge, one foot on the ground, and stared out the window at the stars twinkling. It was a clear night and the moon was waning, leaving an eery glow over the houses on her street.

He let his mind wander a bit, getting lost in the moment. Leaning back against the headboard, the ran through scenarios of what might happen when he was presented in court as a witness. Naturally, he jumped to the worst possible case of them immediately throwing out her case entirely, as her only witness to the abuse came from a walking dead man. Banishing that from his thoughts, he attempted to paint a picture where Hermione won her divorce, leaving Weasley with nothing to show of it, except charges of domestic abuse. _Will Hermione stay with me?_ he pondered, trying to picture a world where they walked down to the market, hand-in-hand, as if everything were normal. As if he hadn't risen from the grave.

There would be relentless questions, he determined, regardless of how the trial went. How had he managed to survive? Who did they bury? How did he evade notice for as long as he had? Questions he wasn't prepared to answer. He wanted peace. After years of serving a dark wizard and bowing to the whim of another wizard who had ultimately asked him to kill him. It wasn't as though Severus had managed all his years with Voldemort without killing some innocents. He had been dark once, fully dark, and it had led to many mistakes. But he thought he had redeemed himself, worked hard for the Light in such a way that the Dark never suspected. He had saved the chosen one and his friends on numerous occasions. While he never quite forgave himself for Lily's death, he had managed to form a life that would have pleased his friend.

He had a cat, something Lily would have found immensely amusing, and a flat away from the city. He no longer thought himself above the bullies, but instead learned to forgive, as she had begged him to in their younger years. He'd even helped Harry on his run from the law, albeit anonymously. Although now he couldn't quite picture his childhood love joining him in this life as he had wanted for years. Now anyone other than Hermione just didn't fit, no matter how hard he tried to imagine his future, it was never without the curly-haired know-it-all he had grown to love so immensely. Even his cat had grown fond of her.

 _Miss Granger_ , the image of his cat pacing around her food dish made Severus spring from the bed. Hermione tossed a bit at the movement, grumbling something before falling back to sleep. Tip-toeing from the room, the wizard made his way downstairs and to the front door before noticing a figure standing at the window, peeking in. Severus retreated to the shadows, praying he hadn't been seen, as he watched Ronald Weasley squint through the fog she had obviously placed on the glass to avoid this exact incidence.

 _I could apparate back to the flat, get the cat her dinner then come back, it would avoid the interaction with Mr. Weasley, but it would also draw magical attention to myself. I haven't apparated in years, would I even be able to manage? I can't very well waltz through the front door and take the tube home, could_ _I? That blasted cat..._

"Severus?" Hermione's croaky voice made Severus nearly jump from his skin. He placed a finger over his lips and ushered her over to his side. Weasley still had his nose pressed against the pane, his breath fogging it up. "Oh good gods," Hermione grumbled under her breath. "Why can't he just leave me alone?" She wrapped her arms around his waist, as if for protection, and he placed a hand over hers.

Severus paused a moment, not wanting to be insincere to Hermione's plight. He noted though, that he remembered a rather sneaky orange half-Kneazle that followed her around when she was a student and decided she would understand. "I need to get back to my flat, my cat will be pissed if I don't feed her soon," he finally offered under his breath.

"Right," Hermione paused, her gaze still transfixed on the grumbling oaf outside her home. "I have a direct floo to my office at the Ministry in my office upstairs. We can grab a bus from London and get you home within the hour, is that doable?" Severus didn't need much time to debate that particular suggestion.

"I'd rather not take a stroll through the ministry if I can avoid it," he grumbled. The image of night guards recognizing him and forcing his debut far earlier than intended. "I can take the underground from here just fine if he would just leave."

"I'll distract him," Hermione declared.

Severus turned, gripping her shoulders lightly. The determination in her eyes didn't waver as he looked into them. "No, he'll hurt you, I won't let that happen," he asserted.

"Severus, you've already said you'd sacrifice anything for me. I can protect myself against Ronald. Just go around back, I'll handle this." Hermione had always been brave, intelligently figuring her way out of dangerous situations she never should have been in. Severus now blamed Weasley for this, assuming she would have been just fine with just herself and the chosen one. _Though frankly, she would have likely beaten Voldemort when she was 15 had it been up to her and her alone._

She continued to stand her ground, never breaking their eye lock. He wanted to say he could wait, that the cat could wait, but she was stubborn much like the witch standing before him, and he couldn't let his only pet suffer.

"I'll come back as soon as I can. I'll bring Miss-" Severus caught himself, clearing his throat before continuing. "I'll bring the cat back with me so that I won't have to leave again." Hermione softened at the sentiment, kissing his cheek. _She is so stubborn. Even more so than I._

"Be safe," she whispered, straightening her back and inhaling sharply as she strode towards the door.

"You too, Hermione." Severus winced.

The wizard watched for a bit as she disappeared outside before walking to the back entrance, after grabbing his coat from the hook by the front door. It was crisp outside, the autumn already showing its colours. He crept towards the front, peering around the corner just as Hermione led the ginger inside.

His stomach churned, but he forced himself to leave the front lawn and rush down her street. It was quiet, only one car out on the road, but he quickly put up his hood in case anyone recognized his unglamoured appearance.

It was only a few minutes walk to the underground, which seemed to take far longer than he'd expected. He was desperate to get there faster, still tempted to apparate instead, get Miss Granger and go back to Hermione as fast as possible but it was not yet time to return to the world of magic.

Once boarded, he lost himself in thought, imagining his return, Hermione on his arm. The fear of judgement and hate melted when he imagined her by his side. She was comfort and home and - _and I let her go out and face her cunt of an ex all alone._ The thought made his rage bubble in his gut, mixing with guilt. He glanced up to see how many stops until he could get off, cursing how far away he lived from the witch.

-H-

"Ronald," Hermione grunted as she pushed the intoxicated ginger from her shoulder. "I want you to leave."

"I should have never have left 'mione," he slurred, pressing his weight against her. "You're the only girl I could ever love." Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped back and let the ginger stumble. She wished he would have fallen, but he obviously wasn't drunk enough to lose his balance completely.

"Why are you here?" She demanded, her ex looking up at her with the puppy eyes that used to make her knees week. Now she simply stood a bit taller and narrowed her glare.

"I had the chance-" He hiccoughed. "I had the change to- _hic-_ start a family- _hic-_ with Pansy but-" He grunted through a sigh as he stumbled over to a wall to help keep himself upright. "I had the chance to be with Pansy, but I couldn't imagine the rest of my life without you as the mother of my children, 'mione." Hermione swallowed and stepped back a bit further.

"You think that because he picked me over some pug-nosed-" Hermione stopped herself, biting her tongue. "You think because you picked me over Pansy Parkinson, that I would take you back?" Her teeth clenched, she tried to take a calming breath.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged.

"Ronald Weasley, you should have picked me over her in the first place, _ALWAYS,"_ she screamed, her nails biting into the flesh of her palm. "I was your wife! Your friend! And you decided that you would rather be with some girl from school that you hadn't spoken to in years. That _means_ something Ronald. That _means_ you never loved me!" Hermione cried. "Well guess what Ronald, I never loved you either. _NOW LEAVE!"_ She finally allowed herself to look at the expression on the ginger's face. He was crushed. _Good._

With seemingly nothing more to add, he picked up his jacket from the floor and pulled open the door, slamming it behind him as he left. Quickly, Hermione ran to the door and locked it charming it shut for extra protection before collapsing on the floor in a fit of tears. "I hate him," she whispered, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Oh, gods I hate him!" She cried a bit harder.

* * *

 **Thanks for your patience as I get the muse back for my stories! Let me know your thoughts on where this should go, I need the help!**


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